PGP2012 Students

Friday the 13^th just assumed new dimensions when on 13^th April, 2012, at the midnight hour, ISB threw open its gates to the class of 2013. We were labelled “enthu cutlets” right at that moment. I just chuckled, enthu! Really!?! – enthu is too small a word for our class, you got to visit our Facebook page to know what levels we had reached, given our (social) networking and “gyaan” sessions, we could probably host an orientation week ourselves! But there were a good 51 weeks before we could officially do so; so 1,2,3…let’s start…O-week, bring it on!!

First thing, the O-week started on a Sunday, which was quite a heart breaker, given that people had walked into ISB after enjoying the 5-day week culture for years, but then change is the law of nature. (you do need these quotes once in a while for a morale boost!)

The week turned out to be quite contrary to popular belief. When I say “popular” belief, I mean some informal introductory sessions where attendance would NOT be mandatory and timings would strictly not be adhered to! But, trust me, the alarm clock was the best friend I made during this week and from the looks of it, it will retain its position for the next 51 weeks :-/

The week was in full flow before I could know. We were bombarded, yes, bombarded with information, left, right, center – all I saw was some information coming my way!  I attended sessions of clubs whose names and functions made no sense to me, I nodded my head to things I had never heard of….oh man! Am I already in my MBA shoes?

Jokes apart, there was serious business done during the O-week. Given that, it’s a 1 year course and we won’t have a senior batch around for the year, this week became all the more important. There are so many things to ISB that I need to know – for starters, I am never able to find directions, be it to the SVs, the ACs or the REC centre…and yes, I am yet to soak in these popular campus acronyms too! For some more serious stuff, the ISB initiatives and the many club break-out sessions, the bidding points (I want to bid NOW!!) — the millions of questions I had and the answers to which I found during the O-week, or at least I came to know who to contact in times of emergencies (I am sure there’ll be plenty through the year)…yay..I am glad I networked, after all a B-school is all about networking – the very old, the over used and abused B-school  line!

There were times when I felt cut off from the external world, like having no internet access, no time to speak to parents…I literally jumped out of joy when I saw a newspaper in the cafeteria and ROFLed when my section mate said he is going out to Hyderabad! Huh, we are located in Gachibowli dude!

The O-week did scare most of us, is this going to be our sleep pattern through the year? Are we going to survive on subs, where is my maggi? Will Hyderabad continue to be so hot? Will the actual case studies be longer than what we had as demo? Will I really need to be awake in all my classes to secure my CP marks? Will snakes live on campus till the day I leave? Will housekeeping really refuse to clean the mess if we go overboard?  Was this week meant to answer all my questions or throw open so many more?

I am overwhelmed for sure, a bit clueless too, but glad and proud that I am in ISB, this 1 week has given me a lot to look forward to in the coming year! ISB is home for the next year and I will keep coming back to it later as well, this is a place to have an affair with! J

For now, my seat belt is fastened, I am all set, come Monday and the rollercoaster ride begins…

- Mansi Joshi (Co 2013)

Class of 2013: Section F: The section with a rather out of the box chant!

It’s been 7 days already, time has indeed flown. A bunch of anxious 20 and 30 something’s stepped on to this beautiful 260 acre campus. Bags of all dimensions along with hope, anticipation, anxiety, enthusiasm and a myriad other emotions. Here we were at one of the premier institutes of this country, the Indian School Of Business. The place which will help us shape our careers & form bonds to last us well a pretty long time. We were finally here, the class of 2013.

A lot of introductions and some familiar faces, thanks to invasion of social media. And then it began. The registration process, which felt really long and tiring, till before we came to terms with the real thing, which was to start the following day, Orientation week, better known as O-Week. Most of us seem to know some alum of ISB, and in spite of all the briefing of what to expect, the week which was to follow was more than what any of us could have imagined. Registration day we got our sections and study groups.

From several rounds of icebreakers, to the rather unusual section chant. It has been a roller coaster ride for us. Aside from the serious stuff, i.e. dean Rangnekar’s message and all the other speakers, there were a whole lot of activities planned for us. It was in the Section Gyan that we (Section F) finally met. A batch of 70+ students who just met, and yet when our alums bombarded us with the asks of us, as a section, we instantly swung in to action. Each one with their unique talent and quirky facts. In the hindsight I can’t be amused enough at the little monster/devil within. That said, we collectively figured that each of our batch mates was unique in their own way and brought with them a rather rich mix of experiences. Day 1 rolled in to day 2 and getting to know our alums, up close and personal was fun. If activities and sessions by the day were not enough, there was more stuff planned every evening.

Treasure hunt took up a large part of the night. Running all around the campus, in the dead of the night, looking for clues and meeting alums asking us to do crazy stuff. We noticed nothing helped us bond better than activities. Yes some of them out in the sun, with loads of sunscreen on. Forming groups and people getting rechristened. Making posters and coming up with funny jingles. Cheering for the section during section sports, stomping away to the chant in the auditorium and then the lecture theaters. And along the way, almost hounding every alum who volunteered to help as part of the O-week team. The flash mob performed by Class of 2012, a much needed visual treat.

In between all this methodical madness, we have also braised ourselves for some serious stuff. We picked up the course packs, and reality hit us – boy you got to study too.

The long and short aside, Orientation week, helped us loosen up, and now we know what the O-week team meant when it said ‘Carry your sense of humor along.’

If I try to capture the true sentiments of each one of us, and all that we felt this past one week, this note would well run in to several pages. Getting to know a bunch of extremely talented and diverse group of people, hanging out with someone new every day, trying hard to make the connect with the alums, it has been quite a whirlwind of good things.

As the year unfolds, I’m most certain that section F, will pack quite a punch (cliché as it may sound) and I’m told; we would learn to like it

- Megha Chakraverty (Co 2013)

The excitement of making it to one of the most prestigious b-schools in India should have understandably lasted for a while. And it did too! I made it, I made it! Yes! To ISB!!! However, a few months on since the happy occasion, just when life was threatening to go back to being mundane and dull, the reality dawned on me that the d-day when one can officially call himself a student of ISB was drawing near, slowly but surely. With much anticipation and unavoidable trepidation, the day finally arrived. Ever wondered how Gru in the movie “Despicable me” felt when he successfully hooks himself onto a rocket just before it shoots off into space? Now, I know how powerful that tug must have been. From the moment I stepped onto the campus, it feels like I have caught a last minute rocket just before blast off. What a ride it has turned out to be so far!!!

A long and bewildering registration process was the first thing I went through after checking in. By the end of it I was thoroughly confused! One feels sorry and thankful at the same time – a feat really since it needs one to have an emotional range much larger than that of a teaspoon’s. The little whoop of joy I felt on receiving the ID card was the definitive confirmation that I am here at ISB, finally!! This poor little whoop of joy was squashed pretty soon afterwards though when I noticed the brilliant and intricate O-week program. And how in hell am I going to manage so much in so little time?? Lethargy and procrastination were the order of the day in the last, lazy few weeks, which, in retrospect, seem like an unattained luxury, an impossible dream from an alternative universe.

It was back to being a kid with the treasure hunt, the most fun I have had in years!! It was a lot of exhausting running from one corner of the campus to the other but it made me aware of a few interesting tidbits about our beautiful campus that I am not too sure I would have known quite so soon. At the 08 Lounge, our group was asked to sing and dance to an item number from the Bollywood of the 80s. The alums probably thought they would be properly entertained. That didn’t happen. We found what we did so funny that we collapsed into peals of laughter even while doing it. The alums wore a disappointed but a bewildered look as we left the lounge still laughing.

I really need to mention here the team building activities which the alums have so painstakingly designed for us out in the hot, hot sun! I could whack myself for not following what will probably turn out to be the most important piece of advise anyone can give anyone else – “Use sunscreen, liberally”. If nothing else, these activities were a lot of fun in addition to getting people together from a lot of different sections to work together on something unconventional and, hopefully bond (a slightly tall order this as remembering all the names itself is a huge challenge in these first few days but one has to start somewhere and appreciate the effort) in the process. The alums who were very particular that each of us introduce ourselves with an embarrassing or a weird thing about self, also reciprocated the gesture later in Khemka. Kudos to them for this, really! I feel like I know some of them so much better now!

People with loud voices are very fortunate, in some ways. Who would have thought that an opportunity will present itself to showcase their talents in the O-week itself!! I am talking about the section chants which are so much fun, to begin with at least. Section E had the best one, of course, and no dearth of loud voices to resoundingly scream it out to every remote corner of ISB. Oh, but what a toll all that screaming had! So many people have lost their voices and that promptly resulted in some pretty comical moments in class for Section E. Some chants were very easy to malicious misrepresent (For example, Section A’s “A A All the way” was instantly and hilariously remodeled as “A A Go away”. Ah, creativity!), some very hard to get it right the first time (Section F) while some stirred dissatisfaction and an effort to “improve” upon this dear little legacy left to us by our alums (Section B). Section E has none of these problems. We simply rock! ROCK E, ROCK E!!

Coming to academics.  The introduction to the case study was masterfully led by a certain professor and if it is indicative of things to come in the next one year, then am really glad that the image I have of ISB and its excellent faculty stands reinforced a hundred times in my mind.

The time is just about right now to mention the fact that there was palpable sadness in the air when the alums announced the fact that they would be leaving the campus soon. It is so amazing and self-less the way they have taken out so much time to welcome us and orient us for the year that is ahead of us, the year that will most definitely turn out to be the most important of one of our lives

So much water under the bridge and it had only been 3 days!! ISB sure makes you pack a lot into your days.

- Shouri Kamtala (Co 2013)

Another year and another week,
A new flock of birds in the knowledge creek
Migrate they here, with a mission and cheer
A noble mind but with a little fear.

As they come, the experienced go,
But lending the oar with which to row.
Kindling the hearts with the passion to know,
And playing as pals, survival seeds they sow.

O-week o O-week please stay forever;
The hands that usher, wish we could leave you never.
Thou art the rain that drenches the souls
Who were too thirsty to reach their goals.

Through the treasure hunt to the talent night,
The new birds learnt what is right.
They will tread the way with the Honor of Code
Fight the future with a pen and not sword,
Storm the dark clouds, and clear the night
Show the world a better sight -
A Sun that shines for strong and weak,
That rises from this knowledge creek
And promises to bring to the fore
The Best Future you had never seen before.

- Sammilan Dey (Class of 2013)

When I left the ISB campus after graduation day, I did not feel the pangs of leaving unlike what a lot of my friends did. I secretly knew that I would be back the following week on the pretext of Orientation. Pretext? Weren’t we supposed to be those nice alums who had volunteered to return to the campus to hand over our legacies to the incoming batch? Well, that certainly was true but the greater incentive to stay back during O-week was to enjoy that last bit of freedom that the campus gave us. I must tell you that sitting on those wooden tables in the atrium with legs dangling on the table (barefoot of course!), seeing the hustle-bustle around and feeling that cool air on the skin was the most heavenly feeling in the planet.

Most of us who join ISB do so after considerable years of working. Change of location and transfers are fairly common; in fact we get used to working with new people every year. For a fair majority this is not the first hostel experience since we would have already experienced it during our undergraduate days. But what I really fail to understand is why does it feel difficult to leave ISB after just one year? (This is not a personal opinion – I did my dip stick survey!). There could be several factors. Some would argue that we actually miss the comfort that staying in ISB provides. (Remember housekeeping & the rec-center?) Many would vehemently dismiss that as a materialistic line of reasoning and argue that the one year at ISB is like a blast furnace in which the short heat treatment fuses together the horde of students like an unbreakable mass of steel. (That was a nerdy explanation of course!)

I have my own theory. The essential difference between ISB and other educational or professional experiences is that here we have no one to look up to. We are the ‘masters of our fate’ and the ‘captains of our soul’. It is perhaps the first life-experience where we fend for ourselves with no guidance and no supervision. Along the way we fall and we make friends and maybe this is what enriches our lives. Secondly, for a vast majority this would probably be the last stay in an academic institution – and therefore like Ulysses we ‘live life to the lees’. And when we live life like there is no tomorrow the times are bound to be memorable.

The independence that we get at the school is probably unparalleled. It comes at the right time in our lives when we are mature enough to handle it. I think this is what we shall miss the most about the place – the independence to be ourselves (without being judged – and if we are who cares?) and to do what we want (within the ambit of reason and morality).

For me, the O-week was reliving the last 52 weeks in one super compressed time slot and savoring this independence for the one last time. Along the way, quite a few of us spent searching for our carbon copies – people who we could identify with and who could play the role that each one of us played in building the community. Whether it was finding the next Biryani aficionado or the ethnographer or the lead guitarist, we spent time looking for similarities in thought and behavior. Behind all those friendships that we made with the incoming class there was one selfish objective – to relive the entire year through their eyes and ears.

The finale was to sit like monks in the atrium with cups of tea in our hands, watch human figures in various hues dash around and feel the ether uplifting of our spirits. We had already surrendered the ‘08 a couple of days back. And when the tunes of ‘Yaaron – dosti – badi hi…’ touched our auditory nerves, we knew that it was time to move on from the Atrium.

– Shreerang Godbole

It was a hot summer in Calcutta,

With the heat of March sapping all my life.

The purring of the air-conditioner,

Did no good to bring me back to life.

To kill boredom,

I would do what many of us did – in that summer of ’11.

Browsing aimlessly on an FB group,

And seeing all the chatter around,

I was – to put it mildly – appalled.

The first thing that came to my mind was,

How would I fit in there,

How would I carve a place for myself?

To kill nervousness and fear,

The only option that I had,

Was to form judgments and opinions,

On those that I had never met.

It was the 9^th of April,

When I took an early morning flight,

To the city of pearls and Nizams.

When I landed at the airport,

I met many a new face,

And then I said to myself – ‘It ain’t that bad after all’.

There was a sea of humanity,

In the vast expanse that we call the atrium.

Eyes darting around here and there – to spot a similar face.

The first week flashed by – in the midst of ‘networking’ and ‘team-building’.

And then I said to myself – 50 more to go.

The enthusiasm was there to behold,

As the bug of CP and pre-reads had spread like a plague,

It was a struggle to make oneself heard.

The atrium wore a deserted look,

Before the mid-term and the end-term,

As we rushed to the exams halls,

A good third of an hour before the bell rung.

Over a period of time, the plague was cured.

Only to be replaced by another one,

Called competitions, club activities and conclaves.

We were running a race – a race against time,

In the fervent hope, that this would be one where we would be ahead by a mile.

But there was hope,

Hope in the form of friends,

Who never changed – as time marched on.

In a matter of a few months,

There were bonds formed.

As if they had existed since ages that had gone.

As the core ended and we went home on a fortnightly break,

We realized – that our hearts were still in the city of Nizams.

As we rushed back for the second half of the year,

We also knew – that the countdown had begun.

In the mad rush of job hunting and resume making,

We were sucked into a storm.

A storm that would captivate us,

For some months to come.

The air had cooled down,

Probably by a nervousness that had gripped the town,

That became even more palpable,

As the New Year dawned.

The trials and tribulations had started,

The endless donning of suits had begun.

And slowly and steadily,

It was closing down.

The bonds of friendship took us to distant lands,

To the sunny beaches of Goa and Lanka,

And the ruins of Hampi, and some cooler climes.

There we were – having a lot of fun,

But gazing into the sunset on the turquoise ocean,

We knew that it was closing down.

As the ides of March drew near,

We realized that the journey was coming to a close,

But most of us still prefer to believe that it has only begun.

The cynics will say that the bonds will wither away,

The optimists will say that bonds of steel never crumble,

But only time will say,

What really happens.

As I started closing those green boxes,

And putting the tape on them,

I knew that the memories that I wanted,

Were all safely tucked away.

This story repeats itself,

Year after year,

Privileged are those that get to live it,

For they know what it means,

To start in a place unknown.

To start in a place unknown,

And then meet travelers along the way,

Who all want to live,

The same journey.

I can see the end in sight,

The straight road that we had taken,

Has suddenly forked into a million parts.

Will the million parts ever converge?

I know they will,

Because I ain’t a cynic.

And I hope – my fellow travelers don’t prove me wrong.

- Shreerang Godbole

We all love sequels, even though we might secretly loathe them.  The electives are almost over, so here are 10 Professors who were memorable, in no particular order. Unlike core terms, you could not complain about being forced to take their classes, and they had to live up to their bid values (note: I will not be held responsible for jacked up bid points next year). Some blurbs have been co-written (to cover all concentrations) and duly credited.

1. Manish Gangwar, ISB (Pricing): Rumor is that the first five sessions covers IIM-B’s syllabus. What do the next five cover? Wrong question. Is the class helpful to understanding dynamic price discrimination and three-part tariffs? Yes, but wrong question again. Will I thoroughly enjoy myself and wonder where my two hours went? Now you are on the right track.

Important fact: Did you know how stockpiling affects store loyalty? Please ask and grab a bag of popcorn.

1. Rishtee Batra, ISB (Consumer Behavior): Between blind Cola taste tests, ZMET exercises about secret affairs, understanding consumer psychology and the paradox of choice – there is a class that makes you wonder if you ever bought anything in your life without being tricked into it. However, once you are done, all you can think about is how to trick people post-MBA using all the visual, aural, and olfactory cues at your disposal. Hurrah! Bid your heart out, even as it crosses 4 digits.

Important fact: Never approach her outside of class. Very hostile, anti-social and downright mean.

1. Ram Thirumalai, ISB (Options and Futures): If you can teach straddles, strangles, strips and straps and maintain a straight face, you deserve an award. That too for the third section in a row on the same day. Messers Black, Sholes and Merton might be famous, but they didn’t learn about derivatives in 5 weeks (okay, maybe they did, I didn’t ask). Whether you want to audit or enroll in this class in entirely dependent on your love for quant. But you must sample it.

Important fact: Guntur chilli forwards are hot. Sorry.

1. Piyush Kumar, Terry College of Business (Marketing Services/Marketing Strategy): You will be taught that “Employee Motivation” doesn’t matter, “Customer Satisfaction” doesn’t matter and “Customer Loyalty” doesn’t matter. All that matters is the golden “Hub” and “Rim” model. Wait a second – is this a marketing course or one on applying the Orwellian principles of ‘1984’? He holds you spellbound as he dissects cases using counter-intuitive frameworks and leaves you with an impression that all is not what it seems.

Important fact: What is brand equity? You might have to ask Deep Thought that.  (Shreerang Godbole)

1. Tanya Menon, Kellogg (Power and Politics): When your course pack includes biographies of Lyndon B. Johnson, Anita Roddick and Henry Kissinger, there is very little to dislike in the course. When it is taught by a smooth talking, engaging and funny (intentionally and unintentionally) professor who is intent on molding you to better diagnose power vacuums and politics in your future workplaces, it is an absolute hit. Collect your Machiavellian scores and proudly show them off.

Important fact: Robert Cialdini’s Influence: Psychology of Persuasion is one of the best required readings you will have.

1. Saikat Chaudhuri, Wharton (Managing Strategic Partnerships): You would never expect to be in a business school and be lectured on the virtues of a PSU and how Air India needs to be supported through its turnaround. Or how the Left parties are good for business and what Kolkata is doing correctly. However, beyond all that, this ex-McKinsey, Mannesmann, and Roland Berger executive will give you frameworks to analyze joint ventures, alliances, partnerships and mergers & acquisitions that span industries.

Important fact: If you want brownie points, brush up your Bayern Munich history.

1. Abhijeet Vadera, ISB (Negotiation Analysis): An ISB-alum, Abhijit makes an instant impact on you with his clarity of thought, effervescent personality and sense of humor. His ability to motivate his class is well known, by using fancy dinners as a reward. Work on your BATNA before you walk through those doors; if you have kids, use their health and well-being as leverage in your negotiating sessions.

Important fact: He would love to crash your parties. (Siddharth Yereddi)

1. Ed Rogers, NASA (Managing Complexity): NASA – as in the guys who sent people to the moon. To drive the point home, if you do well in class activities, there are goodies and souvenirs for rewards. Bumper stickers (“I need my space”), commemorative playing cards, t-shirts and mouse pads to give you closure over your unfulfilled dream of being an astronaut.  Meanwhile, the course tackles an eclectic span of cases from Dabhol and Bhopal gas tragedy, to Iridium and the Boston Big Dig.

Important fact: You might be in b-school, yet it is the only time you have to give a 30-sec pitch in a class.

1. Charlie Fine, MIT (Logistics and Supply Chain Management): After you’ve taught and consulted for nearly 30 years, there are a bevy of examples to answer every query that could be directed at you. From Toyota to Boeing and Li & Fung to Zara, the world of manufacturing and operations is covered with anecdotal and real life experiences. Ops majors will complain, as discussions range around strategies and “clockspeeds”, rather than optimization. Everyone else rejoice and welcome Southwest Airlines into yet another course.

Important fact: Want to be involved with the new Institute of Manufacturing at the Mohali campus? You have your man.  

10.  Arun Pereira, ISB (Entrepreneurial Decision Making): Ten sessions that will that take you through segmentation, cluster analysis, conjoint analysis and Bass diffusion models. Though listed in Entrepreneurship, you could argue it is a marketing course at heart, which makes it the perfect precursor to evaluating both the concentrations. Beware though; a 98 might not get you an A.

Important fact: You do not like filling up surveys? Tough luck – as your friends cajole, plead and bully you into revealing your preferences for laundry, music, talking TVs, and the likes.

- Shayan Bardhan

A couple of days back a friend asked me why I like to write. And not just write, but why do I put it up on display on social media platforms. The question set me thinking. It was something which nobody had asked me before although I asked myself that question every time I sat down to write something.

Well, the question clearly has two parts to it. The first is on the ‘why of writing’ and the second is on the aspect of ‘distribution’. Both are deeply connected with my core being and perhaps reflect the person that I am. But first let me delve into the ‘why’. Truth be told, I am an accidental writer. One fine afternoon in IIT Kharagpur, I was hanging around in the hostel football field when a senior shouted out to me. Well, seniors are a feared lot and my first instinct was to run away. But I held my ground and waited for him to come. He discreetly enquired what I was doing that evening and pat came the reply – ‘Nothing’. In a matter of five minutes I was packed off to an inter-hostel English creative writing competition. My protests went unheeded. I sat down, wrote an outrageous Salim-Javed story and came back. A couple of weeks later I learnt that I had finished in the top three. The seniors came up to me, beaming with delight and treated me to a peg or two of some ‘premium’ whisky. I still have no clue why the judges liked it. Today, I feel ashamed to think of what I wrote.

Serendipity.

Yes. I have come to believe in that word. That evening opened me up to the beautiful world of writing. For I consider writing to be a form of art. I am not sure if that is technically correct. But I like to believe so. Why? For the simple reason that I would envy all my college and school friends who excelled in music and painting and I felt incomplete without having learnt one of the many forms of ‘art’. The source of envy was a grudging admiration not of their skill, but of the magical sensitivity that they displayed toward human emotions, feelings and behavior. So the moment I started writing, I considered myself to be an artist… the small things that we human beings do to please ourselves.

The virtues of the written word are plenty. But there are some which score above others. The most potent property of writing is that one can think, deliberate and choose one’s words carefully before putting them down on paper. A conversation or a dialogue has to be by design free flowing and cannot be punctuated by ‘pregnant’ pauses. Try doing so and you’ll find that you have lost the interest of your audience. Secondly, the written word gives one the power of ‘erasing’ – yes – ‘erasing’.

Just strike off what you have written and it ceases to have any relevance.

Can you strike off what you just said — you can — but it can take a lot of doing.

Therefore, I write because it makes me feel like an artist, it makes me choose my words carefully , put them down and keep a record of my thoughts. And thoughts evolve over a period of time. And what better way to archive them than in this fashion. One may argue that speeches can be recorded, but in my opinion what one writes is the most unadulterated and uncorrupt form of expression. Speeches can be cleverly modulated through a wizadry of tone and voice… but conversely, they can also add flesh. But for a solitude seeking, introvert like me writing wins. Like a violinist feels a high after playing that composition of his, I feel at peace after having written an article. I call it ‘Therapeutic’.

And why do I publish for the whole world to see?

If you think it was the publicity seeking megalomaniac within me desiring tons of ego massaging, then you are probably wrong. I publish less than a quarter of what I write. The reason for publishing is when I want my voice to be heard or when I find it necessary to make a public display of my feelings on a particular issue. It is a form of the freedom of expression that every human being yearns for. A lot of my friends prefer to keep their thoughts to themselves in spite of having brilliant perspectives. My humble submission to them is – “If you keep an idea or an opinion to yourself, you are guilty of retarding progress”.

But then let me also confess that when I do publish I find myself puffing up when I see some encouraging replies. I can sense a sudden spurt in the number of times that I keep hitting the refresh link to follow the ‘likes’ and the ‘comments’. But then I am human – ain’t I?

Writing…..

And it all started on that afternoon in KGP.

- Shreerang Godbole

As you walk the ring road, there is an eerie silence,

For the next couple of months will pass in a flash.

As you walk up the never ending spiral of the LRC,

You can peer down on groups engaged in animated discussions.

It is a sight to behold I say,

When all the learning must come to fruition.

It is a time in which we all make choices.

Choices I say – for choices are dangerous.

More often than not,

We choose not of our own willing.

And then we are back to where we started.

At the end of the day, I ask myself,

Is it all really worth it….

Worth – what is worth my friend?

Who do you think you can blame…

I never promised you anything when you walked in,

I created an environment around you.

And your future was yours to choose.

But then you chose the future which the guy next door wanted you to choose.

And then pain is but inevitable.

I shudder…

I am scared….

I do not know what the future has in store…

I shudder…

I pray…

I pray that bonds of friendship do not snap…

I shudder…

I pray…

I pray that I can take disappointment in my stride…

I shudder…

I pray…

I pray that I can appreciate the success of my friends…

I shudder…

I pray…

I pray that I free myself of even an iota of envy…

I pray…

I pray that all the wonderful people of the Co2012,

Get what they want to their heart’s content…

I pray…

I pray that in some measure I can be instrumental in helping them achieve what they want…

I pray…

I pray that when my best buddy gets that dream job…

I can walk up to him, look him in the eye and with a clean heart say…

“Well done my friend…”

I pray…

I pray that I do not become an animal…

Engulfed by greed and pride…

I pray…

That when we part in April…

There is only joy in our hearts.

Here’s Wishing You The Best For Placement Season !!!

-Shreerang Godbole

I stretched my sore feet, squishing my toes together, rotating my ankles one by one as I balanced myself on one foot and then the other.  Around me swayed alumni, present students and professors, celebrating ten years of ISB, at the concert to commemorate Solstice 2011, the annual alumni event. The concert was the last of the scheduled events barring a party and I had been on my feet all day. I had a shoe bite. I stepped out of my sandals and could feel my feet relax as they sank into the plush grass of the lovingly tended ISB recreation center lawns. With my sandals in my hand, the cool grass between my toes, the music and the magic washed over me, I looked around and through the drifting smoke and the jewel-like flashing lights I saw that for one brief moment in time there was no moment beyond this moment, there were no assignments to write, no groups to negotiate meeting times with,  no jobs to compete for, no enmities to nurse.
For one moment under the cold dark sky cleaved by the ivory moon, we stood with the stars in our eyes, friends happy to be a part of each other’s lives, happy to have studied with such phenomenal talent, happy to just be us, here and now, smiling and laughing, feeling the pulse, the blood rushing through our veins.  At that moment, with students from the founding batch, with all of the years of people who’ve passed through the halls we study in every day, who’ve laughed the nights away in our quads long before we moved in, who made ISB theirs much before it was ours, I realized what I was part of. It’s easy to lose track of that at ISB, with no senior class to give us a sense of continuity. We feel like we are discovering everything for the first time, that everything is an experience unique to us. We are convinced that we are explorers of the unknown. Except we are not. We are a part of a larger narrative that began ten years ago with two student villages and now encompasses two campuses. We have a history and we have a future, hopefully a bright one.
I’m a sentimental person, so Solstice 2011 for me will always be a montage of unforgettable vignettes: couple of us stragglers from the flash mob practice session in the Atrium at 2.30 a.m skating around the polished floor, dancing aimlessly, pretending to be bulls in a ring; lying on my bed in my SV1 quad and listening to the notes of Hari Prasad Chaurasia’s flute drifting in through the open windows; being submerged in foam at the 08 Lounge and then drying off by the bonfire; claiming the last plate of vegetarian tikkas at the Foam Party which turned out to be delicious roasted baby potatoes; discussing the recruiting scenario with a visiting alum who sagely advised against pickiness when it came to employment in recession time – an instantly sobering conversation amidst the merriment; dancing like a dervish and shooting the Breeze(rs); watching my friends zorb and realizing I’d have to pass because I couldn’t hand being suspended upside down inside a plastic ball rolling down a slope.
In a few months, all of this if going to seem distant and foggy. We will be in new jobs, in new lives, meeting new friends and Solstice will only be a memory. We’ll forget the details, but I don’t think I’ll forget the way I felt: Happy.

- Avanija Sundaramurti